


figure my heart out

by 30shayds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Smut, Uni AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30shayds/pseuds/30shayds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He was almost done with his required reading for the night when he hears three knocks on his door. Niall allows himself a catlike stretch before he goes to see who it was.</em>
</p><p>  <em>“Hey,” Louis says to him happily. He doesn’t wait for Niall to respond, just goes past Niall and into the room, straight to the bed where he flops on his back.</em></p><p>  <em>“What are you doing?” Niall asks, a mixture of confusion and surprise.</em></p><p>  <em>“You’ll let me sleep here, won’t you? Me room’s not fit to sleep in yet. There’s broken glass everywhere and I can’t clean it up cos—” lifts his bandaged hand to complete his sentence.</em></p><p>  <em>Niall doesn’t say anything and instead closes the door of his room and goes back to his desk. “Be quiet, then. I’ve got to finish this,” he says faintly. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	figure my heart out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlecather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecather/gifts).



> This story is definitely not the best way to introduce myself to one of my favourite fic writers. I'm so sorry in advance if you find this not up to par with your standards. I had wanted to write something grand for you but I've fallen so short. I did try my very best but I had such a difficult time with this.
> 
> To the admins of the exchange, I'd like to express my sincerest thanks for being patient with me. I never intended to give you a hard time when I signed up as pinch hitter for this exchange.
> 
> Prompt at the end of the fic.

Niall was hunched over a book when a loud crash from next door grabs his attention. Instinctively, he rushes to see the commotion and ends up meeting with Zayn on the hallway. Zayn is one of his housemates; their rooms separated by an empty one. Well, used-to-be empty one, it seems.

They both stand in front of the open door to see a boy on his knees, one hand bleeding gorily; broken glass all over the floor.

“Bloody hell, mate. What happened to you?” Niall exclaims.

The boy lifts his head and Niall finds himself drowning in blue irises. The skin around his eyes is puffy and the whites are rimmed with red like he’d been crying. Or like he had smoked some. The boy shrugs. “Broke me pipe,” he says. High, then.

“Should probably go to the health centre for that,” Zayn says. “Fine glass tends to stick easily to the skin. I’ve had the same accident before with my bong. Wasn’t pretty.”

Niall refrains himself from rolling his eyes. He’s in his first year in uni and he’s living with a bunch of junkies.

“Niall will take you.”

He whips his head to look at Zayn, incredulous. “Why the hell me?”

“’Cause, mate. You’re a good lad and I’m off to a date. Just tell ‘em he smashed an Erlenmeyer flask.” 

Zayn claps him on the shoulder twice to punctuate before he’s watching him jog down the stairs. When Niall turns back to the boy in the room, he was no longer on his knees but standing a few feet from him, the broken shards lay undisturbed behind him.

“Hiya, Niall,” he says with an easy grin. “Friends call me Tommo. I’d shake your hand but I don’t think you fancy blood on your porcelain skin.”

He’s got a few more pages he needed to get through in his book but he can’t very well ignore an injured neighbour. So he sighs and concedes. “Nice to meet you, Tommo. You should probably run your hand under the tap while I get my wallet.”

Niall learns at the health centre that Tommo’s real name is Louis Tomlinson. He also learns that Louis is in his first year of Games Tech. He also learns that Louis is very good at acting and reasoning when he single-handedly dodged the nurse’s suspicion over him fiddling with an Erlenmeyer flask when it’s got nothing to do with his course.

Louis offers to treat him to supper at the hall for his assistance, which Niall graciously declines. But Louis insists by locking his neck in the crook of his elbow and literally dragging him towards the mess hall, and he’s lost all choice on the matter.

He finds that he likes Louis very much. Well, at least he likes high-Louis. The boy is giggly and talkative. Niall likes people who are fun to be around with; and at the moment, Louis fits the bill very well. In the hour they had spent together at the hall, Niall learned about Louis’ family, his friends from back home, and his hometown. It’s a bit too much information for someone he’s met two hours ago. But Louis seemed comfortable just spewing words from his mouth.

When they got back to their house, Niall summarily tells him goodnight and goes straight to his room; closes the door gently but quickly enough that Louis didn’t have enough time to say his own goodnight back. He washes up in the en suite before sitting in front of his study table, restarting on the page of the book where he’d been earlier interrupted.

He was almost done with his required reading for the night when he hears three knocks on his door. Niall allows himself a catlike stretch before he goes to see who it was.

“Hey,” Louis says to him happily. He doesn’t wait for Niall to respond, just goes past Niall and into the room, straight to the bed where he flops on his back.

“What are you doing?” Niall asks, a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“You’ll let me sleep here, won’t you? Me room’s not fit to sleep in yet. There’s broken glass everywhere and I can’t clean it up cos—” lifts his bandaged hand to complete his sentence.

Niall doesn’t say anything and instead closes the door of his room and goes back to his desk. “Be quiet, then. I’ve got to finish this,” he says faintly.

Louis makes a big show of zipping his lips, locking the corner and throwing away the key.

Not five minutes into his reading, Louis lets out a loud, gurgling snore. When Niall turns to look, the boy was laying spread eagle on his bed. Brilliant. It takes Niall a bit of energy to rearrange Louis’ limbs to make space for himself in his own bed (he most definitely will not sleep on the floor). In the end though, it didn’t matter. Because in the morning, they were all tangled up; one couldn’t even tell where one of them starts and the other one ends.

* * *

Niall got into UWE on scholarship, for a course he’d long been dreaming of. It was mighty ambitious for a kid living in the midlands of Ireland to think about building things that could fly. But everyone around him was supportive, especially when they saw how talented he was with it. At nine years old, he was able to construct a 3D aeroplane 70-piece puzzle his mam’s boyfriend had given him as a Christmas present in a little over two hours with no help at all.

His fascination over flight came about when he was three and his brother Greg was making a kite for summer school. It had taken hours to make. Greg had tried to do it by himself the first time while Niall sat quietly and watched. But when it hadn’t worked out, Greg finally asked their da’s help. The three Horan boys were finally making their way outside to test out the kite by four in the afternoon that fateful Saturday. There was a strong and steady breeze sweeping through their street and Niall waited patiently while Greg and his da set up to fly the kite.

Greg was in charge of releasing the kite but failed miserably during the first four tries, the kite tumbling flat onto the fields. On the fifth, however, the kite rode the wind, floating gently at first until it soared so high up that it looked like nothing but a speck of red against a cloudy summer sky. 

And Niall, he knew then, at three years old, that that was what he wanted to do—make things fly.

“That’s deep, bro,” Louis tells him seriously.

Niall throws a pillow at him. “Fuck off,” he says because Louis is a sarcastic fucker and in the few weeks they’ve known each other, Niall’s come to categorize the things that Louis does and says as ‘serious’ or ‘sarcastic’. Most of those things go into the ‘sarcastic’ pile.

Louis grabs the pillow from his face and scowls. “That could have injured me, you know? Could’ve broken me nose.”

Niall rolls his eyes and pulls himself off of his study chair in favour of flopping onto the remaining space in his bed that Louis is not taking up.

“Did you get to fly that kite though?”

Niall didn’t have the chance. Greg turned it in for class on Monday. They were able to fly the kite again with the help of the teacher but the line snapped and it got lost in flight. He remembers Greg coming home sobbing and inconsolable. “It’s alright,” Niall shrugs. “Built my own kite eventually with me Da. It’s still hanging on my wall at home.”

Louis hums, pauses for a moment before he’s wiggling his toes against Niall’s side. Niall chuckles but doesn’t squirm away until Louis kept at it for a good long minute or so. “Fucking stop,” he breathes in between his laughs.

“I’d like to see that kite one day.” Louis said it so quietly that Niall, if he weren’t paying attention, could have missed it.

“You know you’re welcome to anytime, Tommo.” He doesn’t hear a reply; but when he chances a glance, Louis has the smallest smile on his lips and was picking at a loose thread on his jumper.

“Speaking of kites, fancy a smoke? I got some shit from Cuba.”

Niall snorted. “You sure it’s not just dried basil?”

Louis slaps him hard on the chest, making him swear twice, three times louder than usual.

“Got it from Zayn this time. ‘s legit, alright?” Louis says, standing up and going on ahead to his room. Louis spends most of his time in Niall’s room—studying, watching shows, sleeping—but never for smoking.

It takes Niall a couple of minutes to compose himself ( _that really fucking hurt!_ ) before he’s walking out of his room, locking it behind him, and going into Louis’.

* * *

He comes home late one night after a study group session for one of his classes. He finds Zayn making out with a girl with olive skin on the sofa of their house’s common room, which he dutifully ignores as he trudges on up the stairs. Louis’ door was unusually closed when he passed by it, but Niall chocked it up to the fact that it was nearing eleven-thirty and the boy’s probably already asleep. He thinks nothing of it and proceeds to get ready for bed. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Niall finds himself waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of his mobile ringing. He groans, annoyed to have forgotten to put his phone on night mode. He grabs for it and sees who it is. “The fuck, Louis?” he tells him roughly after angrily swiping on the screen to take the call.

“Fucking open your door, arsehole,” Louis says, but Niall hears the break in his voice loud and clear, and it gets him more awake.

“’smatter?” Voice softer now; his concern overshadowing his irritation.

“Nothing. Just let me in.” And Niall didn’t hesitate for a second as he’s jumping out of bed to open the door.

Louis was already there; walks past him without another word. Niall watches his silhouette remove his joggers and get under the duvet. As per usual, Niall doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask. Just goes to lay his mobile on the side table and joins Louis in his bed.

It took a mere heartbeat before Louis was burying his face against the side of Niall’s neck, an arm snaking around his middle and a leg across one thigh. “Miss me mum,” he whispers.

Niall holds him tight then because that’s the thing with Louis. He’s loud and brash and can be massively annoying, but when he’s missing family he does a complete 180.

“It’s not her birthday, is it?” Niall prods because the last time Louis was sombre like this it was because he missed his twin sisters’ recital of some sort. He’s always sad when he misses important family events because he’s far away.

“No,” he mumbles against Niall’s skin. “Just miss her. Miss the girls.”

Niall hums noncommittally and rubs Louis’ back while letting sleep take over him. But then Louis asks, “do you ever miss your mum?” and he knows that it’s because Louis knows that Niall didn’t really grow up with his mam; that he’s more likely to miss his da when homesickness hits him.

“Sometimes, I guess.” Rare, actually. “When I see my mates with their mothers. I mean, like, you just made me miss me mam right now, if I’m being honest.”

“Me mum makes the best pies.”

“Yeah?”

Louis nods.

“Me mam makes the best fry-up.”

“Me mum does a sick brew.”

“Pfft. How hard is that? You just drop the bag in hot water and wait—Ow!” Niall shouts as Louis digs his fingers in the skin by his ribs.

“Don’t disrespect the process of proper tea brewing,” Louis reprimands, but it was soft and tired, like he’s nearing slumber.

Niall laughs quietly, almost like he’s wheezing, and he hugs Louis tighter as a response.

* * *

It was raining hard when Niall gets out of the room after his one class for the morning just ended. “Shit,” he mutters. He’s only got his laptop with him, tucked in a soft sleeve, no bag, and he’s sure as hell not about to soak it.

“I don’t mind sharing,” someone says next to him, just as an umbrella opens up.

Niall turns and meets eyes with a boy from his class, tall, with curly hair and deep syrupy voice. Niall rolls his eyes at him when he participates in class because he talks so slow and the class itself is already so boring, he didn’t need this guy dragging it even more. The professor likes him enough though; she almost always lets him speak.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he says with a smile. And Niall sees his dimples for the first time. Cute.

“Harry Styles, I know. Mrs. Eggerton likes saying your name.”

Harry blushes. Niall thinks it looks good on him. “Yeah. Her class is interesting.”

Niall’s not sure if Harry is being serious because while Niall likes learning basic CAD, the class itself is a total dud. Mrs. Eggerton is in her late thirties but she talks like a stay-at-home mum in her fifties, making incredibly corny jokes that make everyone feel awkward sometimes because some are forced to laugh just to be polite. Niall’s never bothered to check, but he’s almost sure that Harry laughs genuinely at Mrs. Eggerton’s jokes. He seems the type to like corny jokes.

“Where you heading?” Niall asks, because he doesn’t want to impose.

“Quantock Court.”

“Sick! I’m just over at Carroll. Do you mind?”

Harry shakes his head. “I’ll drop you off, it’s on the way.”

“Thanks, man. I’m Niall,” he says, reaching for a proper handshake.

Harry looks down at his hand for a second before he’s smiling, almost shyly. “I know,” Niall thinks he hears but he didn’t have time to dwell on it because it seems they’ve started walking, massive umbrella keeping them fairly dry.

Niall thinks Harry is alright. He’s polite and friendly. He balances between talking about himself and getting to know Niall, like he’s actually interested in what Niall has to say instead of just making small talk.

When they get to his house, Niall invites Harry to come in to dry up a little, offering to make him cheese toasties if he’s got time. Turns out, Harry’s got time and ends up making the toasties himself because “that’s not how you do that, Niall, oh my god!” It’s also one of those days when the common areas are empty, so they get to enjoy their modest lunch in the dining area undisturbed.

Conversation with Harry is so easy. Niall couldn’t even remember when he’d last had so much fun speaking to a stranger like this. They talk about each other’s courses, talk about teachers and classes. Niall finds out from Harry that they are in fact classmates in Maths.

“Really? I never noticed,” Niall tells Harry.

Harry smiles timidly. “Not really as vocal in maths, am I.”

“Well, to be fair, no one’s really vocal in that class. Everyone’s just trying not to lose their minds.”

Harry laughs, loud and uninhibited. Niall finds himself drawn to it; likes it more than he should. When all the food is gone, Niall’s already changed his opinion on the way Harry speaks. He realizes that he may talk extremely slow and winding but it’s not really that boring. Niall doesn’t mind listening to him babble at all.

Much too soon thereafter, Niall is seeing Harry to the door. He gets a “thanks for lunch”—he laughs it off because “thanks for making them”—and a huge grin and twinkling green eyes. He watches Harry walk away under his big umbrella, thinking how nice it is to have made a new friend.

* * *

Louis invites him to a birthday party held in a club just outside of campus. “Take some time off studying, will you,” he tells him. And Niall, he’s not so hard to sway if it’s Louis doing the swaying. It’s almost automatic for him to go along with whatever Louis says. Besides, he thinks, a few beers would be nice, and Louis has promised free beer, so.

It was past eleven when they got to the club and the party was already in full swing. Louis was immediately greeted by two guys Niall’s seen Louis hang out with a couple of times in the quad in between classes. They were never really introduced to each other properly, and it seems they’re not going to be introduced tonight either. Niall has never thought anything of it, he’s never really minded.

After a quick chat between the three and Niall just standing around waiting, Louis has him by the hips, his back flush against Louis’ chest, nudging him towards the crowd. “Let’s go find Liam,” he says, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. The action makes Niall shiver, and he’s half annoyed at Louis for it. 

Louis knows how sensitive his ears are. They both discovered this one night when Niall was feeling homesick and it was Louis being the big spoon to comfort him. They ended up listing dishes that they miss, with Louis suddenly deciding to whisper “meat pies” right into his ear. Niall shivered quite violently in Louis’ arms. They both stopped; both surprised at what just happened. 

Because Louis is and forever will be a menace, he mumbled “peri-peri chicken” against the back of Niall’s ear. Niall shivered again; this time a quipped moan escaping his lips. Louis giggled. “This is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Shut up” is the only thing Niall had managed as a retort. Louis is not impressed though, as he just kept laughing, burying his head at the back of Niall’s neck. By that point, Niall was starting to get hard and he did not fancy embarrassing himself in front of his best mate, so he struggled to get Louis off of him.

“Oi,” Louis said, tightening his arms around Niall. “’twas just a joke, Nialler. Come on now.”

Niall huffed but stopped moving altogether.

“I’m sorry,” Louis had said, kissing the back of his head. And that was the end of it.

Except it really wasn’t because it’s become a game Louis plays when he is bored and Niall has to ignore him while he’s trying to study. It’s always been just a game that happened in Niall’s bedroom, though. It annoys him now that Louis is playing it while they were at a crowded room full of strangers.

Louis lets go of Niall’s hips when he spots Liam. “Come on, there he is,” Louis shouts over the music, signalling for Niall to follow. They walk straight towards what seems like the VIP room with the curtains pulled open. There were a bunch of people in there and Niall’s never met Liam but he’s obviously one of the people in there, and Niall figures he might be someone important.

Someone from the small crowd inside the VIP room sees Louis and shouts his name. Niall hears Louis shout back, “Payno!” They do a quick hug before Louis is turning back to Niall and grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Payno, this is my boy Niall. This is Liam. It’s his party.”

“Nice to meet you, mate.” Liam (Payno?) says as he shakes Niall’s hand.

“Happy birthday! I’m sorry for crashing your party.”

“Thanks, man. And don’t worry about it. Any friend of the Tommo’s is a friend of mine. Have you had anything to drink yet? We’ve got vodka and tequila here.”

“I’ll take a shot of Patron, thanks,” Louis announces, already bending down to take the bottle.

Niall declines when Liam offers him a shot glass. “I’m fine with beer.”

Liam pulls out a rubber bracelet from his pocket and puts it on Niall. “Go to the bar and show them this. Ask for anything you want, mate. It takes forever for the waitress to get shit over here. You’re better off getting it yourself.”

Niall thanks him, about to tell Louis he’s off to the bar if he needs anything but sees that Louis is already in conversation with a bunch of other guys so he just leaves. Niall doesn’t miss the fact that it was only Liam that Louis bothered to introduce him to. Niall thinks that maybe it’s because it’s Liam’s birthday party, but maybe it’s also because Liam is someone special to Louis.

The bar, as expected, was packed with kids trying to get their own drinks. Niall’s not seen a similar bracelet so he doesn’t think these people are part of Liam’s birthday entourage. He’d like to see how powerful the bracelet is, but he’s having a difficult time just getting noticed by the bartender as it is. It doesn’t really help that he’s not a tall lad by any means.

Just as his frustration was getting the better of him, a familiar voice calls his name. Harry, who stinks of alcohol already but looks quite happy about it, swoops in and gives him an unexpected hug.

“What do you want? I could get it for you,” Harry asks as he’s pulling back from the hug, before Niall could even say hello.

“Uh. A Corona would be great.”

Harry raises his index finger and shouts, “coming up!”

Niall watches, delighted, as Harry squeezes himself between the bodies covering the front of the bar, politely saying a bunch of _excuse me_ s and _sorry_ s. And then Harry was shouting, “Teddy! Teddy!” at the bartender and he’s flashing the same bracelet Liam had given Niall earlier. In no time, Harry was able to squeeze back out, past disgruntled students who’ve probably been there for more than thirty minutes just trying to get noticed by Teddy, and handing Niall over a cold bottle of beer.

“That was incredible,” Niall tells him with amused laughter.

Harry grins and shrugs. “We’re flatmates. He likes me enough.”

Niall tugs at Harry’s bracelet and shows him his own. “You’re friends with Liam.”

Harry nods, drinking from his own bottle. “From class. You?”

He shakes his head. “Just met him awhile ago. He’s friends with Louis. I told you about him.”

“Oh yeah. Liam’s really nice too. You’ll like him.”

Niall believes him. Besides, if Louis is friends with Liam then he must be a top bloke. They talk for a while over the music before they decided to go back to the VIP room, Niall intending to introduce Harry and Louis. But Louis wasn’t there. Neither was Liam. It was the DJ giving Liam a birthday shoutout that directs him to where Liam and Louis are.

They are over by the stage, next to the DJ, going along with the toast that was being made. A waitress comes up carrying a cake with a lit 20 candle on it, as the happy birthday song starts to play. Liam was all crinkly-eyed and grinning. Louis, together with the crowd on the floor, was singing while making big gestures with the hand holding a bottle of champagne.

After Liam blew the flame, the waitress gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. The crowd hoots, and so does everyone in the VIP room. Even Niall finds himself laughing and clapping. He doesn’t hear what the DJ says next, only hears the crowd roaring, and then he’s watching Louis pass the bottle to someone, grabbing Liam’s face and pulling it down to his own.

The crowd goes wild—out there on the floor and here around Niall—but it’s like he’s going underwater as the sound gets muffled in his ears and he’s zeroing in on Liam and Louis’ faces, their lips, connected to each other. Like there’s nothing else but that. And he watches as the kiss stretches on, taking way too long to end. When they finally do pull away, the looks on their faces make Niall’s lungs ache. And he can’t breathe. He can’t.

“Niall?” Harry asks, his face right in front of his own. “What’s wrong?”

Harry’s concerned expression makes it even harder for him to breathe. He grasps at the hem of Harry’s shirt, trying to tell him that—

“Have you got asthma? Is this, are you having an attack?”

He does have asthma, actually. So he’s not lying when he nods his head, even though he hasn’t had an attack in a long while and this is not how asthma attacks feel like.

He sees Harry grab an unopened bottle of water before he’s being guided away. He follows because Harry has a tight grip on this wrist and he doesn’t know what else to do.

Harry brings him outside and makes him sit on a bench a couple of feet from the club’s door. The road is quiet and the music from inside can still be heard from the sidewalk but it’s faint.

“Here.” He watches as Harry twists the bottle open before handing it to him. 

He didn’t know he was parched until he was chugging at the bottle, gives it back to Harry half-empty. “Thanks,” he mutters.

Harry gives him a moment before, “you breathing okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thanks.”

Harry sighs, relieved. “It’s the smoke in there, isn’t it? They shouldn’t allow smoking inside closed spaces.”

Niall coughs a weak laugh. “It’s fine, Harry.”

“No, it’s not! You scared me for a second there. You were really pale.”

“But I’m alright now.”

Harry huffs and takes a drink from the same bottle he gave Niall to drink earlier. Niall is amused at what he thinks is a beginning of a Harry Styles tantrum. It’s adorable, if he’s being honest.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go back in there,” Harry suggests. “It could trigger a full-on asthma attack.”

He agrees not to go back inside, albeit for a whole different reason. But Harry didn’t need to know that.

It was nice outside despite the cold autumn night. Harry made the weather tolerable, with his stupid jokes that were so awful it’s gone full circle that Niall finds himself cracking up, with his anecdotes that almost always seem to end with the fact that he used to work in a bakery, and with his thoughtfulness that warms Niall’s hands by rubbing them against his large ones and warms Niall’s heart by taking his mind off the little episode earlier that made him feel very, very weird.

Harry just finished a story that ended with “of course, I’ve got nice buns, I’m a baker” and Niall was in the middle of laughing at the worst pun he’d heard Harry say all night when Louis finds them.

“Bloody hell, Niall,” he starts as he makes way for them at the bench. “Been looking for you for hours! I was worried out of my wits!”

Niall’s never seen Louis so furious. And at him, of all people. “I was just—”

“He had an asthma attack,” Harry explains.

Louis only realizes then that Niall was not in fact alone. “Who are you?”

Harry moves forward, reaching out a hand. “I’m Harry, mate.” There was an awkward pause where Louis stared at Harry’s offered hand for a second, looking like he was genuinely thinking of ignoring it. But Niall was glad Louis decided to let the polite side of him win this battle.

Louis shakes Harry’s hand and only says, “Louis.”

Harry offers a diplomatic smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Niall’s said nothing but good things.”

“He,” Louis starts but doesn’t finish, opting instead to turn to Niall. And it’s like the sight of Niall made him remember what Harry just said. “You have asthma? You didn’t tell me.”

Niall shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

“The fuck?” Louis steps closer, but doesn’t reach for him. “Of course, it is. I wouldn’t’ve smoked around—you shouldn’t’ve—” He stops there, realizing that this isn’t a conversation to be made with Harry listening in. “Let’s go. Liam’s bringing us back.”

Honestly, Niall’s tired and he just wants to lie down in his bed. He turns to Harry and asks if he’ll be alright. He gets reassured, Harry telling him that Teddy’s shift is almost done anyway. They tell each other goodbye and that they’ll see each other in class.

Niall had figured that Liam was rich. He didn’t realize Liam was Rolls-Royce-with-chauffer rich. Louis ends up sitting in the middle between him and Liam. It was a short trip but it felt longer, with Liam and Louis bickering about something on Liam’s iPhone and Niall just resting his forehead against the cool window, watching the streets go by in a blur.

They thank Liam when they are dropped off in front of their house. The entire house is dark, except for the light coming from the telly at the common area. Zayn’s stretched out on the sofa, asleep. They go up quietly and disappear in their own rooms. Niall doesn’t lock his door as he gets into his en suite for a quick shower and brush. And as expected, Louis was already on his bed when he gets out.

Niall takes his time getting his shirt and joggers on. Louis was just quiet the whole time. After he’s turned off the light and settled under the duvet, Louis turns to his side to face him. Niall doesn’t do the same, just closes his eyes and waits for Louis to say something (because Louis is acting like he wanted to say something). After a few minutes, however, it’s become apparent that Louis will not speak so he lets the soft howl of the autumn wind outside lull him to sleep instead.

* * *

Niall finds himself spending more time with Harry during the day. It wasn’t difficult since they have at least two classes together and they live fairly close to each other. At night, he delves into his course works.

Louis does not come to his room anymore, does not bother him like he used to do. He doesn’t think anything is wrong because he sees Louis in the common areas of the house and Louis treats him the same way. He sees Louis on campus and he is greeted just as Louis greets him whenever they see each other outside of the house. Sometimes he is with Harry when he crosses paths with Louis and it’s all good, Louis even jokes around with Harry. 

Niall thinks that maybe Louis’ found a new person to make the homesickness bearable in Liam. He uncannily feels hurt by the thought of it although it shouldn’t hurt him at all. Louis is his friend and Louis can be friends with other people. He should be happy that Louis is friends with wonderful people who care about him. That’s how friends should be. They should be supportive. Niall should be supportive.

So that’s what he does. He doesn’t ask Louis about it. Just lets it be.

* * *

Harry invites himself over at Niall’s to watch a movie. He brings a couple of cans of beers and a box of pizza for them to enjoy. Zayn catches them setting up the DVD player at the common room just as he’s on his way out.

“Make sure to clean up properly when you’re done there,” he reminds them like a mother.

Niall laughs and tells him to “get the fuck out of here and take your date to your room when you get back instead of trying to fuck her out here.”

Zayn laughs and salutes him before exiting the house. Meanwhile, Harry is looking at the couch with a horrified expression. It sets Niall off into a fit of laughter.

Bryce Dallas Howard’s character in The Village had just gone over the wall when he noticed that Harry was already sidled up against him, an arm around his shoulder over the back of the couch. He turns to Harry, feeling amused more than anything. Harry was staring straight at the telly, focused on the film. His face glowed against the light and Niall finds his profile very attractive.

Harry notices that Niall's attention was not on the movie anymore and he turns to him so that they are now face to face. "Alright?" Harry asks, genuinely concerned.

Niall nods once, a smirk forming on his lips. "Are you?"

Harry's eyebrows furrow deeper, mouth poised and ready to say, "of course", until he finally got a clue and realizes the position he'd placed himself in was rather compromising. He retracts his arm immediately and makes space between them. His cheeks were flushed so red that Niall can't help the fondness he's feeling.

"I--I'm so sorry. I wasn't--" Harry stammers.

Niall chuckles. "You want to talk to me about something, Harry?"

"I just--"

The door slams open and a gust of wind interrupts them, followed by incessant cursing--Louis--and gleeful laughter--Liam. It makes Niall and Harry freeze.

"Got you good, mate," Liam says as he and Louis appear in the entryway of the common area. He notices them sitting on the couch immediately. "Oi, Harry, is that you?"

Harry turns to face them and smiles. "Hi," he says timidly.

"What are you--? Hey, Ni. What--? Is this a date?" Neither Harry nor Niall get a chance to answer. "Look at this," he tells Louis. "Your boy's on a date with my boy. You didn't tell me they were shagging, mate."

"No," both Harry and Niall say in chorus.

Harry looks like he's about to have a panic attack. Niall, on the other hand, he's just staring at Louis--whose expression is so stoic from the moment they entered the house that Niall doesn't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing--and Louis is just staring back at him.

"Well, they're not gonna get to shag if we stay here another minute," Louis is telling Liam, but he doesn't break eye contact with Niall. 

Niall's eyes water and his chest tightens but he doesn't say anything. His tongue feels swollen and his mouth dry, and he can't say anything. He watches Louis pull Liam away and climb up the staircase, skipping every other step, looking every bit intent on getting away.

Liam calls out from above, "be safe, kids," before a door slams and it's just Niall and Harry again, and the credits rolling on the screen.

"Liam can be a bit of an arse sometimes. Sorry."

Niall tears his gaze away from the staircase to look at Harry. The worry lines on his young face are so apparent that it makes Niall's heart reinforce itself to be okay for the sake of Harry. He smiles. "It's fine. It's just banter."

Niall can see that Harry can see through his lie but Harry doesn't press, and he's thankful. They try to get the easy groove they had going before Liam and Louis came in, but it's like there's an unspoken agreement between them that the mood had already shifted, and that's that.

He sees Harry to the door and thanks him for the pizza and the booze and the movie. Harry suggests that they could do film night again at his flat, Niall tells him it's a date.

Andy, one of his housemates living on the ground floor, catches him before he heads upstairs and they get to talking for a bit. He gets asked about some wirings on a model aeroplane, which eventually led to him going into Andy's room to take a look at it himself. It takes him almost an hour before he's finally free to go to his own room, after pointing out the problem to Andy, coaching him on how to fix it, and ending up fixing it himself.

Louis' door was closed. There's no sound filtering into the hallway from inside; even when Niall stops in front of it in the hopes of catching any kind of sound, he gets nothing. He stares at his own door for a second. There's that small hope poking at his heart, maybe he'll find Louis waiting for him on his bed, where Louis will make obnoxious jokes about Harry but will snuggle up against him when he lies down.

But of course, his room is devoid of any living creature when he pushes his door open.

* * *

"Hey."

Louis looks up from his laptop and grins. "Hey, bro. How 'ave you been?"

Niall shrugs and takes the seat across Louis. It's an odd hour and there's not a lot of students in the mess hall. "What are you doing?"

"Ah, just configuring something for--"

"It's illegal to hack into the uni's records system, Louis," Niall sighs.

Louis' eyes widen for a second. But then he's smirking at Niall, goes back to his laptop and does a bit of typing before he's closing the lid and leaning back. "You look like shit, Ni."

"Haven't had proper sleep in days, if I'm being honest."

"Something wrong?" His face is softer now, eyebrows furrowing in the slightest way. Niall's missed that, that concerned look he grants Niall. He hasn't seen it in a long while.

Niall shakes his head. “Just a bit knackered. Final exams nearing, and all that.”

Louis nods, smirks. “Yeah. It’s strange, y’know. I just wanted to put out some sick game apps out there. Didn’t think I’d be face to face with books for that. Been too busy reading, I am.”

The chuckle that escapes Niall’s lips is quiet, but only because he really was tired. “I see that,” he says quietly. “It’s like you just disappeared.”

Louis’ smirk melts but his gaze on Niall becomes more intense. Niall didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter but he can’t help himself. He is, after all, rather scorned by Louis’ sudden decision not to hang out with him anymore. Surely it can’t be that difficult to knock on Niall’s door, Louis’ spent half of the term practically living in Niall’s quarters, and then he just stops coming around.

And it isn’t like Niall’s never tried to go to Louis, because he practically developed sore knuckles from the number of times he banged his fists against the hard wood of Louis’ door. The only person to ever come out of their room was Zayn, telling Niall to “bloody stop with the knocking! Clearly, Louis ain’t there. Just text him or summat. Fuck, man. You’re making my hangover worse.”

So, if he sounded a bit short, well, no one can blame him.

“Yeah,” Louis mumbles, lowers his gaze to his laptop on the table. “Pretty swamped.”

“You’re never in your room,” says Niall because he can’t seem to just let this go. Louis looks up at him, head tilting in the slightest. “Do you even still live in the house? I rarely see you there.”

“I spend some nights at Liam’s flat. It’s—”

“You’re never in my room either, not anymore.”

It’s like watching a goldfish in its own little bowl, Louis opening and closing his mouth but not producing any words. Niall’s just as surprised, though. He didn’t exactly mean for that part to come out. It’s… well, it’s not supposed to matter whether Louis comes over or not.

Suddenly Niall is furious; embarrassed and furious—at himself, mainly—he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. Why he’s saying the things he’s saying. It’s ridiculous to be upset at Louis because he’s developed absurd feelings that he shouldn’t even have in the first place.

He shakes his head. “Sorry. That doesn’t matter. I just—” He pushes the chair back, the legs making an ear-piercing scratching sound that attracts the attention of some of the nearby students. “Forget it, yeah? I’ll just see you around Tommo.”

“Niall,” he hears Louis say, soft and careful. He hears the sadness, hears the pity, in his voice. Like Louis has figured him out before he can even figure himself out. Like Louis is sorry because Niall is so pathetic.

Niall doesn’t look at him as he walks away. He doesn’t hear Louis shuffling to follow after him. A part of him—a large part of him—wanted Louis to come after him. But even that part knows that’s not going to happen. It doesn’t hurt any less though.

He walks fast and steady, looking like a student with a purpose. He’s no idea where to go, but he can act like he’s not actually lost. And while his tear ducts are swelling and it’s painful to hold back the waterworks, he does it. Pushes any impending tear from falling.

He’s at the quad when his mobile vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out and sees Harry’s name flashing. For a moment, he thinks about cancelling the call but he remembers that they were supposed to get dinner together. So he steels himself, breathes in deep the cold afternoon breeze, and thumbs at the screen.

“Hey, Haz.”

“I just got done with my class. Where are you? I’ll go to you. I quite fancy a baguette tonight. What do you think?”

“Think I’m gonna have to pass on dinner. I’m really exhausted, just wanna sleep already.”

There was a pause. “What happened?” Harry whispers.

Niall shakes his head at the pavement. “Nothing.” And it’s true, it should have been nothing, but Niall is a fool and had turned it into something. “Just. The day wore me out. Can’t be bothered with food.” It sounds nothing like him, and he’s certain Harry can hear it too. 

But, “okay,” Harry says and doesn’t ask for him to elaborate. “You sure you don’t want me to bring you anything? Some soup?”

God bless this boy, Niall thinks. He’s a good friend. But he didn’t need a good friend right now. He just needed to be alone. “Nah, matey. I’ll literally just go straight to bed. Pretty sure it won’t be that hard to fall asleep. I’ll be out the moment I lie down.”

Harry doesn’t press, just tells him “okay” again, suggests they can have lunch after class tomorrow (which Niall agrees to), and finally ends the call. He can see the tops of the houses at Carroll Court from where he’s stood, and he realizes he doesn’t actually want to go back there yet. 

He walks slowly a couple of feet to an empty bench and sits down, placing his bag right beside him. He is exhausted, that much is true. But he thinks it’s mainly from holding back the tears that wanted so bad to just flow freely. 

A couple of girls pass in front of him, the one with red hair smiles at him. He smiles back. When they are already further away, Niall thinks that he should date a stranger. Have someone set him up with someone. Harry seems like a friendly bloke; surely he can get someone to date Niall. It doesn’t even matter if it’ll end up being a disaster, he just needs the distraction. He makes a note to ask Harry tomorrow.

The sun has just set and the lamp posts are already starting to turn on when Niall finally gets up and makes his way home. He feels his stomach rumble and internally curses himself for being such a drama queen blowing off Harry and dinner. He remembers that Harry had given him an oatmeal raisin cookie yesterday that he thinks is still in his other bag, spends the rest of his walk scoffing at the fact that it was oatmeal raisin rather than chocolate chip.

He catches the three boys rooming on the ground floor having dinner. Niall only has the time and energy to give Andy, John and Julian a quick wave and a quipped “lads” for a greeting, as he goes straight on up. For once, he’s thankful the door beside his is closed.

“The fuck you been?” he hears before he can even fully open his own door. Louis’ on his desk chair, ankles crossed and tucked under his thighs.

“The fuck you doing here?” Niall exclaims, clutching at his chest. “You trying to give me a heart attack, you arse?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Obviously, no.” And it’s so strange that he’s acting so normal, so much like they used to be with each other, when just a little less than two hours ago they were in this ridiculous spat over—Oh. Right. They weren’t really in a spat. It was him who was being ridiculous.

“You gave me the extra key, remember?” Louis continues.

Niall sighs and closes the door. Of course he remembers, it’s just, “I thought you’d already thrown it away,” he mumbles as he’s putting his bag down. He doesn’t look at Louis as he takes off his shoes and jacket. He doesn’t really know what to feel, but what he knows he doesn’t feel like doing is throwing Louis out.

“Why would I do that,” Louis starts gently, letting his feet touch the floor. “For one, it’s school property. I’d be in quite the trouble, wouldn’t I, if I just binned it.”

Niall goes to the corner of his room where the hamper sits and takes off his socks and t-shirt, drops them off one by one. He still chooses not to make eye contact with Louis.

“For another, you’d like that too much—keeping me locked out of your room.”

Niall turns then, frowns at Louis, who’s got his hands behind his head, leaning back against the chair like an arsehole. He doesn’t dignify that dig with a response and goes to the en suite instead to wash his face, mainly to have something to busy himself with rather than actually caring about skin care regimens.

Because Louis is insufferable, he’s right by the doorway of the en suite when Niall is wiping his face with a towel. “We weren’t done talking and you just walked off. Where’s your manners, Nialler?”

“There’s not much to say,” Niall retorts as he shoulders past Louis. “You’re busy. I’m busy. We’re both busy.” He’d very much like to get his jeans off now but it’s a bit awkward with Louis just watching him milling around the small room. In the past, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s different now, he guesses.

“Clearly, there’s a lot to be said.” Louis is right behind him now. Niall can feel his body heat against his back even though Louis isn’t touching him. Niall grabs for the handle of the wardrobe but doesn’t pull it open; does it just so he can hold on to something. “What’s on your mind, lad?”

Niall shrugs. “Dunno. Final exams?”

Louis exhales an exasperated sigh. Niall can almost feel him rolling his eyes. It makes Niall smile, thankful his back’s to Louis. “Well, obviously, final exams,” Louis comments. “I meant anything else other than that.”

Niall shakes his head and opens the wardrobe, grabs an old loose shirt and pulls it over his head. “’m quite tired,” he says to Louis as he turns to face him. “So I’m going to bed. You can stay if you want, but if you’re gonna leave, just be sure to lock the door behind you, yeah? Thanks.”

He goes to turn off the lights, finally takes his jeans off in the dark and slips under his duvet and presses himself against the wall, leaving a space for Louis. It’s not that he thinks Louis will stay, it’s that he hopes Louis will choose to do so.

“Stupid, stupid,” Louis says, and Niall’s not sure but he thinks he can hear the fondness in Louis’ tone. He then hears the click of the lock on his door.

Louis slides quietly under the duvet, next to him, their arms warm against each other. Niall stares at the ceiling, at the shadow of the tree rustling from outside his window. It was a long moment of silence until he thinks that maybe Louis’ already gone to sleep, so he closes his eyes. Until he’s being nudged.

“Hey, Niall.”

He allows a couple of heartbeats to pass before he answers, “yeah.”

Louis does one of his big, exaggerated sighs and then goes, “if I got this all in a twist, I swear to god I’ll jump off your window and plummet to my death.”

Niall’s eyes open then, eyebrows furrowing. “What—” he was saying, making to turn to Louis, but finds himself interrupted and left speechless as the boy next to him drapes over him. Niall feels bare thighs against his own, a knee separating both of his. “Louis—”

Louis is holding himself up with a bent elbow beside Niall’s head, his other hand cradling the side of Niall’s face. “Have I got it wrong?” he whispers, and Niall can taste Louis’ breath against his lips. 

Niall is not the least bit ready for this. He’s never thought that a moment like this would ever happen to him. He’s never had fantasies of Louis like this. But it doesn’t stop him from shuddering now, from his cock twitching underneath his pants.

Louis moves his head and starts planting sweet kisses on the side of Niall’s head, tickling his cheek, his ear. “Niall,” he says as his head dips and pecks him on the jaw, on his neck. “Tell me, Ni. ‘ave I got it wrong?”

Louis is rubbing a thigh against his crotch, surely he can feel Niall getting hard, he thinks. That should be answer enough. But of course Louis is a shit and won’t stop whispering _tell me_ s and _Niall_ s as he peppers gentle kisses on the side of his face. So, “no,” Niall croaks. “Not wrong at all.”

He feels it as Louis’ face breaks into a massive grin, letting his emotion materialize against Niall’s sensitive neck. “Good,” he says and gives Niall a big smack on his cheek. “Didn’t particularly fancy killing myself off.”

Niall gets a kiss then, one that starts off dry but quickly escalates as Louis pushes his tongue into Niall’s mouth. A whimper escapes him, which Louis takes as permission to press closer to his body and kiss him harder. Niall grabs at the back of Louis’ cut off shirt, scratching blunt nails through it, pulling him much, much closer until he thinks they’ve moulded into one person.

Louis lets him catch his breath as he gives his neck and shoulder some attention. Grinds his hard dick against Niall’s hip. Sweeps an arm underneath the dip of his back to get closer. Gives Niall the opportunity to quip, “you won’t die jumping off my window.” 

Louis goes to nip at Niall’s lower lip and humours him. “Oh yeah?” he says.

“Mhmm. It’s fucking physics, Tommo. We’re only like eight feet up off the ground. The jump’ll probably break some limbs, but definitely not enough to kill.” 

Louis pulls back. Even in the dark, Niall can feel him staring. “Oooh. Look at me, I’m a fooking genius talking about physics and whatnot while I’m about to get fooked,” he says in the most god-awful Irish accent Niall’s ever heard. It sets him off laughing.

“You’ve just completely wrecked the mood,” Niall wheezes.

“I wrecked the mood?” Louis says in that high-pitch tone he does when he’s affronted. “Me? What about you? You’re the one who went on about physics.”

Niall’s reduced to soft chuckles now, just happy at the fact that even as they find themselves in this position, it’s still so easy to be with Louis. “Will you just shut the fuck up and get back to the kissing?”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Fine, Tommo. What do you want me to do?”

Louis kisses him, soft and wet. Niall has half the mind to roll his eyes but his body decides to melt into the kiss instead. He pays attention to Louis and how he’s kissing him. He notices how Louis tastes of mint and smells distinctly of soap, and it clicks. Louis was ready for this. He got ready for Niall.

Louis’ hand slips under Niall’s shirt, goes straight to his chest, grazes a palm against his nipple, Louis’ leg still rubbing at his dick. And Niall’s moaning before he even realizes it. 

“That,” Louis says as he goes to lap at Niall’s neck again. “Do that. Sounds good.”

There’s really nothing funny in the situation they’ve found themselves in and Niall’s body is already so turned on just by Louis’ closeness, but he can’t help laughing at Louis’ ridiculousness. God, he feels so pathetic, so gone for this boy, but he’s really not ashamed of it. He’s proud to call himself Louis’ biggest fan because he is.

He didn’t realize he’s trailed off in his thoughts when, “I’m losing you, Niall. Where are you?” he hears rough voice murmuring against his ear.

“Right here,” he sighs, content. “Just here.”

“Can I taste you? Please, babe? Nialler?”

Niall swallows the lump in his throat. Ends up just nodding his consent anyway because he’s been rendered mute, it seems.

Louis is snaking down his body, but Niall can’t watch this. He can’t, or else it’ll be all over, so he puts a forearm over his eyes and concentrates on his breathing instead.

Louis lifts the hem of his shirt until it’s bunched up under his pits. He feels warm tongue lave at a nipple, causing him to simultaneously gasp and shudder. Louis keeps his attention on that single nipple, flicking the tip of his tongue against the nub until it’s hard and sensitive. He bites at the nub, sucks at it, makes Niall grab at his shoulder almost involuntarily, until he grants mercy and gives it a final lick. Only to do the very same ritual to Niall’s other nipple.

“Louis,” Niall groans just as Louis was wrapping up his assault on that other nipple.

Niall gets a quick kiss in the middle of his chest, Louis’ hands rubbing up and down at his sides. He wants Louis to come up and kiss him but Louis is intent on going lower. Louis mouths wetly at his stomach, his sides, sucking so hard at the flesh it sends a jolt all through Niall’s body that’s a confusion of pain and pleasure. He hears a loud smack as Louis pulls back, giving a licking feel, and then sucking at the very same spot again.

“Lou, c’mon.” He’s got a hand on Louis’ shoulder to drive the point.

“Shhh. I’m marking you.” Louis says it so matter-of-factly, as if it’s the most obvious thing to be doing at a time like this, while Niall is dying here.

“Ugh,” he grunts. “No need for that. ‘m yours.”

Louis grins against Niall’s skin and playfully bites at his side, squeezes his hip. He half wants to roll his eyes and half laugh at how ridiculous Louis can be. But Louis is getting back to business and that’s all Niall’s wanted anyway.

He lifts his head to watch Louis nose at his dick. God, he’s never been so hard before.

“This for me?” Louis asks just to be a dick.

He wants to make a quip right back but he’s not got the energy for banter anymore, just wants Louis to wet him with his mouth. So, he nods, eyes lidded and breathing heavy.

Louis mouths the head through the fabric. Niall’s been leaking pre-cum for so long that there’s already a distinct spot on his pants, clinging against the slit. And he feels even more sensitive with Louis’ lips giving it soft kisses. He’s far beyond acting patient and modest, though; wants to feel Louis on his skin. So he hooks a thumb at the band on his hip and makes to pull it down, relaying to the other what he wants.

He doesn’t get the desired result, unfortunately, because Louis is a fucking tease. “Stop that,” he gets reprimanded, Louis’ hand grabbing his own and pulling it away. 

“Why do you keep doing this to me,” he groans, letting his head fall back on the pillow. But the question sounded loaded, even to Niall’s ears. Because it’s not just about the blowjob he’s eager to receive. It’s about him and Louis. About how they are. What they are. From the very first day it’s always been them in this very bed. And it’s friendship back then, Niall gets that. But it turned more than that so quickly, he didn’t even realize it until he found himself jealous beyond reason.

Louis stops and pulls his mouth away. Niall feels suddenly scared that he’d ruined everything. Again.

“Babe,” Louis says softly, kisses the covered shaft of his cock, his hip just below where Niall can feel a bruise has already formed from Louis’ incessant sucking just minutes ago, and the middle of his chest. Suddenly, Louis’ right there above Niall’s face.

Niall looks up at him, worried more than anything now.

Louis gently strokes his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he begins, “if I’ve been a massive knob. It’s not intentional. I mean, I’m intentionally a knob most of the time, but never to you. Never.” He gives Niall a soft peck on the lips. “You’re pretty special to me, if you haven’t noticed.”

And Niall, well, he doesn’t have the words to reply to that. So, he just nods again because Louis is looking at him, waiting for something from him. Louis leans down and pecks him in the lips once, twice, and then his mouth is full against Louis’. Another long wet kiss that Niall is starting to get addicted to. When Louis pulls back, it’s to pepper him with soft kisses to the corner of his lips, his cheek, his temple; all the while murmuring “I’m going to take care of you.”

Niall thinks Louis means take care of him in bed tonight. But somewhere in the back of his head, he knows it’s more than just that.

Louis goes straight down the length of his body this time. No teasing. No show of titillation. Just steadily going straight to his cock that’s never softened for a millisecond—it’s rather painful now, if he’s being completely honest—and lifting the band of his pants up and pulling the entire thing off of his body.

Even in the darkness, Niall’s face and chest are glowing flushed. His cock is not any different. Louis allows a moment to appreciate it after he’s settled between Niall’s wide open legs before he’s got it cradled in one palm, closed it around a welcome cage of calloused fingers.

Niall feels it when the slit of his dick produces an embarrassingly massive blurb of pre-come, practically wetting the entire head. He reaches for Louis, grips at his shoulder, but before either of them could say anything, Louis is licking the thick clear liquid.

“Hnnnghhh,” is the sound Niall produces, his entire body shuddering violently with such a simple action. Louis takes Niall in his mouth, then; the warmth making Niall’s hips thrust up. But he is held down firmly by Louis.

It feels amazing. And he’s come to realize that Louis knows what to do, how to make Niall feel good. Knows where in the head to prod the tip of his tongue so that strong currents of electricity course through Niall’s veins. Knows how to hollow his cheeks when he’s sucking on his way up so that the coil in Niall’s belly tightens even more. Knows how to hum as he’s sucking at the head, with one hand steadily stroking his length, and the other fondling at Niall’s balls so that he’s just about ready for the big release. 

“Lou,” he warns, “gonna come.”

It sets Louis off into overdrive, eager to get Niall there; tugging faster and faster. He’s removed his mouth from Niall by now, just intent on the flash-like movements of his right hand on Niall’s dick.

Niall moans, a little too loud than he’s afforded to make in a student house. He makes a desperate cry as he gets closer and closer, until he’s groaning brokenly, going over the edge; long stripes of white decorating his abdomen and chest. Louis’ gets him through it, doesn’t stop tugging. But his mouth also finds itself against Niall’s bollocks, sucking and tonguing until Niall has come down from his high.

He only gets two seconds of reprieve as Louis licks at the swollen slit. It’s gone so sensitive that it’s just painful now; and Niall makes a sound to convey this fact to the boy who just got him off. Louis hears it—understands—so he stops.

Louis comes up to stick his tongue into Niall’s mouth; his pants and shirt have already been discarded somewhere. They kiss as Louis wanks himself, cock dipping filthily at the wetness on Niall’s skin with each stroke. When Louis comes, he doesn’t moan as loud as Niall has done. He does, however, breathe out sharply; the sound of each exhale extremely sexy in Niall’s ears.

Niall stays on his back, watches with hooded eyes as Louis slots himself to Niall’s side, avoiding the mixture of their comes on Niall’s skin. He wraps an arm around Louis’s shoulders while Louis is lathering their jizz all over Niall’s front. It feels disgusting.

“Stop,” he groans, weakly grabbing at Louis’ wrist.

“Can’t believe you’ve still got your t-shirt on,” Louis murmurs in the dark. Niall hadn’t really noticed, but Louis is right. He still has his shirt bundled up under his pits.

Niall summarily moves to pull the shirt over his head and off of him. Louis grabs it and uses it to wipe the mess on Niall’s front. He doesn’t even get to object against it. Louis’ taking care of him, so he guesses it’s not so bad to ruin a shirt that way. 

Louis lies back beside Niall after the shirt has found a new home on the floor. They’re not touching except for the meeting skins of their arms. Both of them facing up the ceiling.

“Alright, Nialler?”

“Yeah.”

“’s true what you said?”

“Hm?”

“That you’re mine.”

Niall turns his head to Louis, profile so beautifully sketched by the moonlight. “Since day one.”

Louis smiles. He scratches Niall’s wrist. “C’mere,” he says.

And Niall does. He places himself under the arm that Louis raises, cuddles close, presses his entire front to Louis’ side, his soft dick against Louis’ naked hip. He gets wrapped in a full embrace and a kiss on the forehead. 

This type of cuddling in bed is not exactly new. He and Louis have done this countless of times in their pursuit to manage homesickness. What is novel though are the nakedness and the clear lines that they’ve drawn tonight. Niall feels much more invigorated to face the rest of uni knowing he’s got this to hang on to.

He’s on the verge of falling asleep when Louis tuts. “You’re still sticky. Disgusting, that.”

“Want me to remove meself, then?”

“No,” he says, tightening his hold on Niall.

Niall tries to hide his chuckles on Louis chest.

* * *

Niall was hunched over a book when a loud crash from next door grabs his attention. He turns toward his bed and meets eyes with Louis, who at the moment was sat on it with his back against the wall, laptop on a pillow over his lap.

“Zayn,” Louis says.

“We should probably check if he’s all right?”

Louis looks like he’s considering it, but, “nah.”

“Tommo,” Niall says warningly.

Louis grunts. “Fine. Get back to reading. I’ll handle it.”

Niall nods and follows as instructed. 

Not five minutes since he left, Louis opens the door and pops his head at the gap. “Hey, Niall. I’m bringing Zayn to the health centre real quick. Could get you coffee on the way back if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, babe,” Niall says, gone back to his book even before he said ‘babe’.

“Hey, Niall,” Louis calls from the door, doesn’t proceed until Niall’s looking at him again. “Gonna miss you. Will you miss me?”

It was automatic when his left eyebrow lifted. “Will you be gone for days?”

“No.”

Niall waits, because surely there’s a point to be expounded there.

Louis sighs exaggeratedly. “Niall! We’re at the honeymoon stage of our relationship; this is our time to do grossly sweet things!”

Niall laughs. Louis is so ridiculous.

“Fucking tell him you’ll miss him already,” Zayn shouts from the stairs. “I’m bleeding to my death here.”

Louis nods and gestures to where Zayn is, making a face that clearly says, “see, Zayn gets it.”

“Jesus,” Niall says to himself, remnants of his hearty laugh still there. To Louis, he says, “gonna miss you, Lou. I’m counting the seconds until you return to me. Be safe, my love.”

Louis literally blows him a kiss before he closes the door, and Niall can hear Zayn and Louis bickering going down the stairs.

He turns back to his book with a big smile on his face. Louis is so ridiculous. Niall restarts his reading, trying to restock all this knowledge for his final exams tomorrow. But not long after, he gives up. His concentration’s gone.

Funny that. He does miss Louis already after all.

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Niall and Louis both start at a university far from home (abroad, or just a far away city) and end up in the same house/building due to last minute accommodation applications. They become friends and find they help each other a lot with the homesickness.


End file.
